Satisfaction
by MrsLJG5
Summary: Do not underestimate the power of Suzanne Gibbs, Presidential Aide and wife of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. She's got a job to do, and no one will stop her. Updated: 15 May 2017. It is rated T for mild adult language and work-related situations.
1. Are You Kidding?

**Author's Note: The following is dedicated to women. It is Serena, Connecticut Women's Basketball, Tessa Embry, Billie Jean King and the** ** _'Battle of the Sexes_** **.' There are women everywhere who break barriers. As a woman in the workplace, I am appreciative of women who pave roads for equality and give dialogue to share. I dedicate this story to the Sisterhood. For those unfamiliar with Tessa Embry, please google search this remarkable young lady's stand. As I began with the story idea, the young teen captured essentially the same idea conveyed at the beginning of the message.**

 **The songs** ** _Macho Man_** **(Village People),** ** _Satisfaction_** **(Eve),** ** _Batdance_** **(Prince-Rest in Peace Prince Rogers Nelson) and** ** _Baddest Bitch/Chick_** **(Trina) serve as musical inspirations for the universal theme that women are powerful forces; do not underestimate. On a personal note, I prefer the edited version of the Trina song Baddest Chick.**

* * *

 _"You don't know me..."_

The general conversation started days ago after the boss' annual physical checkup. On camera, the image was the newest appointee keeping stride with similar exercise regimens. Suzanne Gibbs was working inside the office with colleagues and heard snippets from a ZNN wellness segment and a fitness comparison between herself and the President of the United States. The newest addition to the Owens Administration was not pleased with remarks regarding _her_ weight.

Suzanne shared a similar body mass index as the Commander in Chief. Those with a camera noticed a physically fit, shapely assistant to the President whether at a meeting or playing a basketball game. David Owens weighed no more than 190 lbs and stood over six feet, three inches. Physicians raved about him, yet the doctors still categorized Suzanne as 'obese?'

She continued pounding the frustration of it all at the keyboard, splitting glances between the desktop monitor and television screen overhead and rolling her eyes in disgust.

" _Where_ am I obese?" Suzanne asked fellow coworkers Claudia and Linda. Carefully, they studied Suzanne who walked from her desk near the President's office to the central beverage station. In her hand was a cup with a 'Curious George' portrait on the front. Such a fitting gift from Tony DiNozzo, who described Suzanne's personality as an ' _insatiable curiosity for discovering uncharted territories-just as George's adventures with the Man in the Yellow Hat; her friendships brought the same appeal.'_

How the organization obtained _her_ exact weight and body mass remained a mystery. The report neglected to mention the new aide was not a stranger to exercise. Four days a week for at least an hour or two a day, Suzanne exercised to maintain her healthy lifestyle. She was two inches shorter but 20 lbs heavier than the President. Her weight, however, was at the bust line. Suit jackets or shirts, when buttoned, accentuated her ample bosom but overall wiry figure. At her last checkup two months prior, Suzanne, at 6'1 and 210lbs, was in _excellent_ health. In their short time of working together, both Claudia and Linda asked and noted several dieting quirks. Suzanne, or 'Q' to the Boss, ate cantaloupe with cottage cheese and chicken breasts salads with a vinaigrette dressing almost everyday. It was a surprise to see fried chicken, macaroni with cheese or even shredded cheese with her scrambled eggs at buffet-style meetings with the President. Despite the dietary splurge, it was an extra leafy vegetable serving. For a beverage, coffee with heavy sugar and milk and water. She had a sweet tooth and adored brownies; Suzanne nibbled on a snack during the afternoons while Claudia and Linda declined. It was why she could afford to eat sweets and to drink coffee with regular sugar and milk.

"It takes work to look like this..." Suzanne savored the afternoon coffee break in her favorite cup. She leaned momentarily and enjoyed the soft keyboard clicks after hours of television chatter and tedious paperwork. "This crap is _exactly_ why women get distorted views about diet and exercise." Suzanne continued, calling the remarks sexist and completely unrealistic for healthy, active lifestyles.

Colleague Claudia Bailey used the main remote to decrease the volume. Meanwhile, another series of filework piled on the corner of her desk waiting to be alphabetized or signed by President Owens.

"You cannot get worked up over the report, Newlywed." Claudia reminded Suzanne. "Politics of the game..."


	2. I Can Show You

**Author's Note: I thought it would be nice to feature Jimmy Palmer in a FF story. Hopefully, the reader will enjoy this leisurely change-of-pace featuring Palmer with Jethro Gibbs. Please let me know if this section fits into the flow of the story.**

Dr. Mallard asked Jimmy Palmer a favor: ' _Take Agent Gibbs the necessary forms to sign. We must preserve chain of evidence.'_ The ME Assistant was delighted to oblige. The once awkward conversations between he and the Supervisory Special Agent transformed to a level of mutual respect, confidence and even subtle signs of a friendship with help from their wives. Intentionally, the two conspired for Jimmy to call for Jethro's expertise with a woodwork project. Breena and Suzanne spent a weekend day or evening together, depending on Suzanne's schedule, often leaving the men either on canine/babysitting duty or a multitude of 'honey-do' lists for the home.

* * *

 _"Suzanne's good at her job, Agent Gibbs."_ Jimmy complimented his friend, the Supervisor's wife. He grilled steaks outside as payment for handyman services, a talent Jethro appreciated once the beer bubbled from the foil. He smelled the delicious peppercorn aroma from the brisk spring air. Palmer's rambling conversations differed from his immediate supervisor, Dr. Donald Mallard or Ducky as the team called the Medical Examiner. The Major Case Response Team members, including Jethro Gibbs, stifle the younger man's input. He listened to a brief story where Suzanne was on television, Victoria immediately pointed calling for 'Sue-Sue.'

 _"She's a wonderful role model."_

 _"Suzanne spends a lot of time with Jessica Owens after hours."_ Jethro answered. _"She wanted to visit the Children's Hospital with Susie that weekend."_

Baby Victoria's company, the soft pitch 'Uncle Gibb,' brought a smile with each visit. Each interaction led to discovery. Jethro watched father-daughter time, listened to the barrage of "whys" and "whats" from the curious tot, and marveled at Jimmy's patience. With Emily at boarding school, Amira with Layla, the elder didn't mind weekends with Jimmy. He took joy in side projects, such as a handmade dollhouse for the little girl. With passing weekends, the time with Jimmy reminded Jethro his first years with Shannon and a new adventure with a second wife. Happier times from the past and the positive outlook for his present without a headshrink. Freely Jethro shared how proud he was of Suzanne. The flow of conversation with Palmer was that of an elder brother, not of 'Grandpa Duck.' At work, Palmer and Jethro exchanged pleasantries, with the seasoned agent advocating, defending the younger from DiNozzo's childish pranks.

With Victoria asleep in Jimmy's arms, he placed her inside the bed and kissed her forehead. It was that particular Saturday where the two shared a beer and watched college basketball. Jethro admired Duck's Assistant as a man, how he cared for Breena and Victoria with similar fortitude.

 _'You're a good man, Palmer.'_ Jethro said.

What finally settled the nervousness was earning a smile, a compliment from the Senior Agent.

' _You and Suzanne...'_ Jimmy hesitated but stayed with the original comment. _'Will make wonderful parents, Agent Gibbs.'_

It was Palmer who reminded Jethro his blessings and new beginning. Three, four months of marriage and the two heavily involved with their perspective careers. Jethro knew of Suzanne's ambition; everyone at NCIS were conscious to the ambitious, competitive and determined fulltime employee in craft services. Cordial, yes, but during her studies she focused on the joint Master of Public Policy and Juris Doctor program. The courting and wooing was in the final year, where it was certain she'd graduate in May. Convincing her to marriage was a surprise to friends and family; Jethro was delighted to fall in love once again and marry a woman he loved. Suzanne finished with highest distinction, entered the Bar and began her job with the White House. It was a little soon to discuss children.

 _'I'd love to with Susie.'_ He confessed. _'Eventually...a son, maybe another daughter...'_

The bottles connected for a celebratory toast: family.

* * *

Jimmy heard the dialogue upon entering MCRT and noticed Suzanne's picture on the screen.

"Oh, Lord..." His quiet mutter was intended for the individuals who dared ruffled his friend's feathers. Suzanne first met Jimmy at the university gym as a new graduate student. At that point, Breena was his fiancee. Since school days, Palmer and Susie spent their two evenings a week at the local gym as workout partners-nothing more. As a term of endearment, Palmer and Suzanne were often called Zan and Jayna, the _'Wonder Twins,'_ unsuspecting superheroes of the organization with extraordinary physiques.

" ** _This_** is not good." Immediately he thought of the outcome from Suzanne, shaking his head at Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. At that moment, he was alone in the area known as the bullpen.

"Oh, she's mad, Palmer." Jethro said, removing his glasses. To alleviate the pressure, he pinched at bridge of his nose, closed his eyes momentarily. "Keeps asking me **_where_** she's obese..."

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned..." Palmer passed the manilla folder, focused on the story.

"I hate to disturb you, but Dr. Mallard asked for your signature."

"Oh, they don't know my wife..." Jethro muttered as he signed the papers.

"You know, she's in better shape than the President **and** the Secret Service." Jimmy commented as he returned to Autopsy. "Maybe Suzanne can show them better than she can tell them..."

 _'I can show you better than I can tell you...'_ Whenever Suzanne muttered that phrase, it was a guaranteed promise. "Daddy taught me that." Whether academic, emotional or physical retaliation, it was the statement to determine dominance or territory. Of her two older brothers, Suzanne was the smallest but fiercest competitor. For superiority, she always cheered for an underdog. Being left-handed had its advantages in keeping others on the defensive. The unproficiency worked in her favor, as Suzanne dominated the opposite side. With will, make a way.

"Her expression..." Jethro laughed to himself, as he glanced at Suzanne's picture on his desk. "I can _show_ you better than I can _tell_ you..."


	3. Team Ya-Ya

**Author's Note: We begin Chapter 3 by ending the day inside the White House Office and introducing Suzanne's colleagues, for those who are new to reading the stories involving Suzanne Gibbs, the wife of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Suzanne works with Claudia Bailey and Linda Pearson at the White House. To recap, Suzanne's name was mentioned in a fitness segment in a negative light. Her friend, Jimmy Palmer, and husband, Special Agent Gibbs, discuss the fallout once Suzanne create and execute revenge.**

 **Songwriting Credit: Satisfaction (2003-Ruff Ryder Records, ****Jeffers, Young, Elizondo). Note that some of the lyrics were edited and changed to fit to the story and situation at hand. Credit to the song and songwriters go to rapper Eve.**

* * *

Their section of the EOP-Executive Office of the President-was called Team Ya-Ya, the nickname for Sisterhood. The corridor possessed three of the four powerful women behind David Owens' success. Mrs. Owens' office was inside the White House Office but in a different sector. Linda, Claudia, and Suzanne handled all correspondences, engagements and schedules from the Office of the President. While Claudia and Linda handled domestic engagements from the office, Suzanne accompanied, corresponded, double-checked and ensured precision. The California trip, her first with the President and working collaboratively, went very well. Europe was three weeks away, and the last thing Suzanne anticipated was a trivial-assed discussion about _her_ weight.

TV's off. Suzanne's irritation with ZNN subsided...after 45 minutes, two cups of coffee and the equivalent of an entire brownie. With headphones on, she resumed her administrative duties for the President and listening to a mix of female empowerment rappers. Of course, the lyrics were autobiographical, given the recent events. Obviously, it was a person with the Advance Department or Secret Service the three deduced as culprits to the nonstop press. Nevertheless, Suzanne was ready for retaliation. The primary theme was macho—a supposed aggressive, virile, dominant man's man, and in the world and sensibilities of Suzanne Gibbs, a woman would set those attitudes in place.

 _'Now I'ma do this thing like it ain't done before_  
 _Never leave the game stranded, I had to give more_  
 _I'ma give you what you want, what you waitin' for?_  
 _Make my music that the people can't ignore_

 _A lotta dudes are bitches, and bitches be trippin'_

 _A lotta them be wishin' that they was in my position  
A lotta dudes be cowards and most cowards be chickens_

 _Screw 'em with their cluck-cluck,_ _ **Gibbs**_ _ain't trippin...'_

The chuckles continued, her coworkers watching her sing and bopping her head to the corresponding beat.

 _Sometimes I feel bad most of the time I don't  
'Cuz if I don't protect my shit other people won't  
Some want me to neglect my shit, take it for a joke?  
But I'm stayin' on the grind, never goin' back to broke_

"Suzanne's right, though. The 'experts' cannot assess women at a simple glance." Linda added. The elder stateswoman of the trio and voice of reason, Linda Pearson was the Personal Secretary for the _**three**_ previous administrations. President Owens valued the 'Lovely Mrs. L' for candor and confidentiality. The President identified his employees with a character trait. Linda was Lovely L or Mrs. P. She seldom she made a negative comment about anything, but in the current newscycle she wholeheartedly agreed with Suzanne. Linda continued her disgust with Claudia. "It is _ridiculous_ to compare BMI's of men and women together."

 ** _Anything I want, I'ma get it 'cuz I know I need it_**

 _Anything I need, gotta have it, bet I'm gonna grab it  
Ain't nothin' better than the satisfaction  
Everything I am, just because I had to make it happen  
They never thought that I would make it happen  
Anything I need, gotta have it, bet I'm gonna grab it  
Ain't nothin' better than the __**satisfaction**_

"Umm...E-Vee-E back there..." Claudia said aloud, complete with the smart-assed reference to the songstress. Suzanne removed the headphones.

"You're loud. We can hear the bass from your headphones!"

Claudia Bailey, Director of Oval Office Operations by name and paper. In reality, Linda had the actual experience. The student deferred to the elder. The President called "C"- code-breaker, closer, cautious, calculating but in an objective manner. Her talent to the office was nonsense.

"Don't start cussing about missing apple juice from the staff refrigerator!"

"Oh, I'm set for revenge." Their coworker sipped her coffee behind her desk. She grinned, resumed with the typing. It was perfect for plotting and scheming to exact detail how to make reporters of the newscast _'eat crow.'_

 _"Ain't nothing better than a satisfaction of making those motherf-_ _ **Lord, excuse me,**_ _ **Mrs. Pearson.**_ _.."_ 'Quick temper' was not necessarily the reason she earned the moniker 'Q' from President Owens. It came from Susie Q, a classic song from a man declaring his love for Susan, perhaps a Suzanne in his life. Once he learned the Personal Aide preferred her **given** name, he insisted the unique alphabet for "Query," always having an answer to a question. A second reason was Bond-inspired, as he remarked on her quick-witted response to bureaucratic red tape. _'The hell you mean two days?! Oh, okay...I'll see it this afternoon, thank you!'_ Suzanne stopped the comment at the right moment but neglected to finish her thoughts on the entire matter. "I truly need to pray about this."

"Probably one of Secret Service detail." Claudia's voice was above a whisper, her fingers clicking across the keyboard. The squared-frame reading glasses slipped just below her nose as she glanced at one detail and onto the computer screen. "Want to make you look bad before Europe."

"What you need is a bar of soap to place in that filthy mouth, Suzanne Gibbs." Linda chastised as she gathered her belongings and wished her colleagues a well weekend. "And think of a way of getting those sneaky son-of-a-bitches back-quickly."

 ** _"I will let the bastards remember the brains behind this body."_** It was a put up or shut up for certain detail agents from Secret Service.


	4. D-Up

**Author's Note: Definitions the reading public should know include the word "snuck," a slang term meaning unexpectedly sucker-punched. To sneak in a punch and the past tense, "snuck." Example: "Elliot 'snuck' Charlie in the corner!" Another vocabulary word is "own," which means man-handle. The following chapter is a reference to Defense, or playing "D." The term "D-Up" means to play wisely and to become aware of executing the right call in a defensive mode. Suzanne Gibbs has an obligation to the "Sisterhood" to conduct herself in a positive yet effective manner. She arrives to work the next week ready to defend and vindicate. The inspiration comes from the song, " Macho Man," performed by the Village People (Credit: 1978/Casablanca Records: writers: ****Morali, Belolo, Willis and Whitehead).**

* * *

 _Body, wanna feel my body,  
body, baby, such a thrill, my body  
Body, wanna touch my body,  
body, baby, it's too much, my body  
Body, check it out, my body, body,  
baby, don't you doubt, my body  
Body, talking about my body, body,  
baby, checking out my body_

 _Every man wants to be a macho, macho man  
To have the kind of body always in demand  
Joggin' in the mornings, go, man, go  
Workouts in the health spa, muscles grow  
You can best believe me  
He's a macho man  
Glad he took you down with anyone you can_

* * *

A collective group aired grievances from the time she was introduced to as the replacement. Suzanne gave a "pleased to meet you," firm handshake and solid eye contact and the disclaimer: **_'_** _Whatever's said about me **will** eventually make it back.'_ Only Secret Service Supervisor David Dash heed warning and admired the nonsensical attitude of President Owens' new addition, Presidential Aide Suzanne Gibbs. As for the recreation time on White House premises, recent challenges, chatters and sneer remarks about her were not such clandestine; after all, she caught wind of **all** the scuttlebutt.

The move from masculine to a feminine assistant, indeed, outraged the testosterone driven males from the Secret Service detail. They despised her as Darren Hall's replacement, as he was forced to step down and assume an office position inside the Executive Office of the President. For the younger agents, the great 'international rolodex' during down time was gone. Rightly so after the ' _One Night in Bangkok'_ episode. It was not associated with the infectious 80's about chess. The afterhour activities, all captured on cellphone, counteracted the reasons for President Owens' work on human trafficking!

With Darren's transfer meant subpar 3-on-3 games or so they thought. He played with the _'Rock chalk, Jayhawk'_ Kansas team. Basketball was President Owens' favorite exercise. Inside the gym, Suzanne arrived with _her_ alma mater logoed gear, either the navy blue capital 'G' or Jack the Bulldog. The shorts, the oversized shirt were loose like the fellas as well except she tied the tanked-tee in the back. Often, the small group were privy to a preview of her sculptured legs and muscular calves. Dash and the President suggested during weight training to resume basketball, which Suzanne happily accepted.

Men snickered, until she simply demonstrated once with leg weights in the weight room. To leg press an impressive 450 lbs in three sets of 10 quieted many from the Secret Service team. Suzanne warmed up for competitive playing similar to others-jogging, backpedals, criss-cross verticals, and defensive slides. Suzanne's 'Superman' stands were longer pauses, demonstrating her superior flexibility and balance. When asked of her speed, Suzanne answered dance floor work and maneuvers since childhood as a main source for exercise regimen. She was shorter than the regular players but held her own with assists, quite a few takeaways and some accurate distance shots. A few cheered as she made a jump shot.

 _ _'Meet the Big East, Gentlemen.'_ Dash chuckled the aide's attitude on the court after a preliminary round._

 _'Girl can ball._ _'_

 _'She got some skill.'_

 _'Lucky shot.'_

* * *

Richard Collins had _some_ Jethro Gibbs beliefs when it came to women. Suzanne thanked God her husband's only concern was for her well-being. His philosophies concerning working women were antiquated as the equivalent of Carrie Nation's correlation with reproductive damage and corsets during the Temperance Movement. She noticed the wedding band and secretly wondered **_what_** woman signed the dotted line with that fool.

Collins worked Presidential Detail 20 years; before, he served in the Marines during the First Gulf War. Outspoken about the agency's broader search for liberal arts candidates with the word _liberal_ sparking the outrage, a question regarding his physical and technological demands of the position came to question. Soon, women candidates to the protection detail slowly fueled the paranoia.

 _'Those femi-nazis...'_ She heard the term as she passed a corridor.

 **'Yeah!'** Suzanne's voice deepened to match a male. The men's laughter soon stopped as she peeped in the small group. During the work week, she wore pantsuits. It was her signature look: dark-colored with a feminine touch, whether a flower on a lapel or a floral colored oxford shirt/tie combo. Suzanne wore only eyeliner and a touch of lipgloss. The appearance was comfortable, original and unmistakably her own brand. It came with the backhanded comments, of course.

 _"So I guess you wear the pants in the family, Gibbs?"_

 _"Doesn't mean I wear underwear with holes in the front." She responded at Collins. "Bet you my husband can show you...better I can tell you."_

* * *

"You play ball at Georgetown, Gibbs?" He asked.

"Georgetown was graduate school." Suzanne answered. "Played basketball with Daddy and my older brothers in the backyard."

As time passed, the men showed little mercy, whether innuendos for distractions or a good natured flagrant foul. Suzanne shrugged it off, just kept playing.

"See how you do with the big boys..."

The quips between Collins and Suzanne never stopped. His comments, intended to remind her of 'a woman's place' only fueled for sharper, wittier repartee. Weeks passed, and her comments were sharper. She excelled at the position. Several agents resigned to the fact Suzanne Gibbs was tougher than any male opponent, Agent Collins refused to accept the change. The verbal chatter came to head during the basketball game.

Collins charged Suzanne with all physical force, intentionally injuring Suzanne from a key block. Knocked on her behind and sliding a good distance the playing immediately stopped to check. The play wasn't over. Suzanne popped up without hesitation. It was a man's game. Her male influences guided, prepared her to think and maneuver defensively in all facets.

 _I'll play D. Hope you wore your cup today. She thought._

"Foul, Collins."

"Legal move, Shortie." He waved the initial call, walked back with the other agents. "No blood, no foul, Rook."

"Yo, I know street rules." Momentarily she rubbed the chin. "That was a cheap-assed shot, even for you."

"You're playing with the men now, Gibbs." Collins grinned. "Can't run with the big dogs? Stay on the porch." Some of the service staff chuckled as he muttered,

"Give the ball to the crybaby."

"Hey!" Suzanne quickly confronted. From anger, her vocals grew a decibel louder. "The f-k are you calling crybaby...?"

"Whoa, Q…" The President, surprised by his aide's cursing, nipped the questionable trash talk by tapping her shoulder. "This isn't the blacktop."

Suzanne placed her hands on her hips, eyes squared solely on 6'6 Collins at center court as the team regrouped. Suzanne checked the ball furiously to Collins.

"Ready to get hit again?" He rechecked with the same intensity.

"Like you hitting the backboard?" A few of the service agents snickered, with Suzanne, once again, outstepping the player in a crossover move. Within seconds, the team scored another shot against the team.

Owens and Dash sensed tension in the air. The game was 21. The Shirts, comprised of Suzanne, Dash and Crawley teamed were only three down from the President's Skins team. It was a 17-20 game. Suzanne and her teammates just tied the game.

"If you weren't a female..." Collins hissed.

"Then, what's good, Collins?" Suzanne answered by tapping her upper chest followed by open hands. In sports language, it was a challenge. Suzanne was not a stranger to threats and would not fall for intimidation. Her innate attitude for violence, for defending herself came from two sources. She was a product of her Master Sergeant father. Her family's Appalachian temperament, mainly her 93 year old grandmother, was more evident as time passed.

"Swing up, then! Do it, because I'll _own_ your old ass..."

The President pushed his aide to one side while Dash calmed his agent on the other.

"I'm from **Deanwood,** Collins!" Suzanne continued shouting. "They don't know I've lived in Deanwood! I'd cold cock the hell out any one of these fools..."

As the group dispersed to shower and prepared for the day's activities, the President mentioned to Dash in passing.

"Remind me not to get on Suzanne's bad side."


	5. All of This and Brains Too

Author's Note: Again, the musical inspiration for the majority of the chapter comes from the Village People's Macho Man. The rationale for using the song is discussing the 'idea' of machismo. It also becomes an anthem for Suzanne Gibbs! Another highlighted song is Batdance (Prince Rogers Nelson, 1989-OMST). The following chapter is about a jog that finally places Suzanne's feelings and frustrations in order.

* * *

 _Body, love to pop_ _ **my body,**_ _  
Body, love to please my body,  
Body, __**don't you tease my body,  
Body, you'll adore my body,  
Body, come explore my body,  
Body, made by God, my body,  
Body, it's so good, my body**_

Special Agent Jethro Gibbs mumbled a reminder to Suzanne each odd exercise day: _'Just let_ _ **them**_ _know **where** it goes every night…'_ The body looked amazing in soft light as his pre-slumbered squints adored his wife's body. Proud of her accomplishments, she belonged to Jethro and only him who explored, pleased, and satisfied every God-given desire; tease but don't advertise!

She was in top physical shape but never dressed provocatively. Suzanne wore the typical gear-running pants, a long sleeved flowing shirt and of course, her neon running shoes. On colder days, she donned a skull hat, close-fit gloves and an extra hooded sweatshirt for a run. The only pleasure Jethro received from the 05:15 phone call was that Suzanne worked 'Bravo' desk; her departure time was 1500 and expected time the next day was 0900.

 _'Let's go, Thump.'_

On the move, Secret Service had the dubious honor to assign Suzanne a codename. The President was a fan of Ian Fleming's work and wanted a suitable nickname for his assistant. 'Thump' or 'Thumper' described both athletic prowess and innate principles her parents impressed upon her. It did not hurt she was a physically pleasant distraction, a nice view to watch as the sun shined over the Potomac. President Owens was 'Connery,' the first to exude and execute such physical charm, presence into 21st century executive leadership. The same was said of the Scottish actor who first portrayed the MI-6 commander.

Suzanne participated in both high school and college track. She ran in the spring, conditioned with a mixture of cross country and dance in off season. She credited dance for gaining confidence, for instilling graceful movement and providing overall joint fluidity. _'Mom enrolled me in ballet at 6 years old.'_ The competitive running stopped after college; the dance lessons since youth earned a spot in a Washington dance company. Again, it took work to stay in excellent physical condition.

There were benefits with exercise, such as alleviating nonsense from the doubting male forces. The energy songs were a stapler in the I-Pod shuffler, a motivator to set a pace. That morning, _Macho Man_ happened to pop into the shuffle. She ran to the music, soaked up every single word to the song. Include in the definition _stud_ , _he-man_ , and _sexually active_ (and least likely sexually satisfying), it was the landscape of the macho-man at the White House and throughout some Secret Service ranks. How dare a woman like Suzanne Gibbs display machismo traits? It was lonely, being the lone female with men, even the President, and their desires to prove fact from fiction amongst each other. So much for keeping the Boss company, she thought.

Suzanne Gibbs just wanted the respect she _deserved_ , period. Screw the occurring themes, the distractors: femininity, masculinity, weight, emasculation. Judge on the contributions. The purpose was not to humiliate but to enlighten. At the workplace, egos aside, respect the fact her late father raised his daughter to become 'Army Strong,' to rise through all occasions.

* * *

 _You can tell a macho, he has a funky walk  
His western shirts and leather, always look so boss  
Funky with his body, he's a king  
Call him Mister Ego, dig his chains  
You can best believe that, he's a macho man  
Likes to be the leader, he never dresses grand_

Suzanne walked self-assured with the President of the United States with maybe a step behind him to answer a phone call. It was not a coincidence her smiling face was present in each snapshot. The hair was perfectly coiffed. During work hours, the well-tailored pantsuits and matching accessories complimented each detail, down to her perfectly French-tipped manicured nails. Mrs. Gibbs, as the press addressed her, spoke politely, always exchanged pleasantries and displayed impeccable manners. The comments were brief and generally about 'President Owens' or the event in general.

The team _hated_ when Suzanne Gibbs ran alongside the President in general because of protocol. Her enthusiasm during the run embarrassed both journeymen and veteran agents. Several times it was requested to _exclude_ Mrs. Gibbs from the running exercise. The pace with the predominantly male group were at par or even faster than the supposed individuals 'trained' for all contingencies. Owens viewed his aide's speed as a direct challenge to improve his mile. The President and Dash were beside her within a half-minute. The other agents, however, were dragging behind.

 ** _Hey! Hey! Hey, hey, hey!_** _  
Macho, macho man  
I've got to be, a macho man  
Macho, macho man  
I've got to be a macho! (all right)_

 _Macho, macho man (yeah, yeah)_  
 _I've got to be, a macho man_  
 _Macho, macho man_  
 _I've got to be a macho! All Right!_

The President laughed, asked Dash in disbelief if 'Q' was really singing the Village People's Macho Man!?'

 _"Macha?"_

" _Marianismo,_ Mr. President." He glanced at Suzanne. "Unmistakably, questionably Marianismo—intellectually, spiritually, and at times physically stronger than men in Latin American culture."

'I got to be a mucho, mucho, macho, macho man…' Suzanne continued singing loudly and off-key, jogging in place as she flexed a chiseled bicep. **_'Dig my muscles!'_**

 _'Come on, boys!'_ Suzanne jeered softly. To see Agent Collins, struggling in the back stretch and holding onto his calf was priceless.

" _Talking 'about a mucho, Mucho Macho...yeah...I gotta be a macho man_!" She screeched at the top of her lungs. The President soon joined her side, ready to continue on. "Don't tell me you're tired."

"They are." The President watched his Secret Service detail struggle to catch up. The lone chauvinist of the group, Collins, dogged and determined not to give in.

"Give 'em a break, Q."

"I say, hell, no!" She imitated the classic voice from a classic movie. "We still have another two miles to go, Mr. President!"

President Owens wanted a challenge to begin the week, and Suzanne was amped. The beginning run, at least from her athletic pursuits, seemed to be the roughest. Suzanne's past coaches were impressed with the natural speed at the middle and huge push towards the end. The energy conversation was in part of extensive dance training, as performers learned how and when to exert power.

Coincidentally, Suzanne's next musical selection was motivation. She selected the 'Batdance' as a final reminder for the agents to never cross, challenge, or test her endurance again. Emblazed on her t-shirt: _**'All of this...and brains too'**_ with the Georgetown Law logo on the back _ **.**_

"Someone mentioned I was obese and could benefit from an exercise regimen like President Owens." Stretching for a brief moment, she noticed from the corner of her eye photographers awaiting a photo opportunity. "Let's see if they can keep up with me..."

 _'Oh, God, no.'_

"Suzanne Gibbs..." She whispered. "Second B is for bitch..."

The music restarted on her headphones as did Suzanne.

"Let's roll."

 _-'She's great, isn't she?'_

"She's moving!" Dash called the rear.

 _Ooh yeah, ooh yeah_

 _I wanna bust that body_

 _Ooh yeah, ooh yeah_

 _I wanna bust that body right_

 _-"I'd like to"_

The group managed to get several clips of the President running at pace with Suzanne.

 _'Good Morning.'_ Suzanne greeted, continued with her pace. She forgave but did not forget. It was an attribute from her father.

At the turn, Suzanne picked up the pace and left both he and Dash with the press.

 _'Mrs. Gibbs runs with us several days a week...'_

"She runs two speeds: fast and faster." The President panted heavily. "Does a seven minute mile. We've done three today."

About 100 yards into the run, Suzanne picked up her speed. Soon, she was out of the visual. The guests with their equipment became winded.

"Someone catch up with Thumper..."

 _Hey, we got the power_

 _Oh, we got the soul  
Hey, we got to sho'nuff get off  
to make the devil go, go_

"Thumper is out of range, Doc." An agent replied out of breath. "She's circling back."

"You...win, Gibbs!" The President moaned alongside Dash.


	6. By Invitation

_Writer's Notes: Credits to Sylvester James/James Wirrick for_ **lyrical inspiration or snapshot to the series. You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)-1977/Fantasy Records, all rights incorporated. Also to Chad Elliott/Rufus Moore/Beyonce Knowles with So-So Def Recordings (Featuring Jermaine Dupri, Lil' Bow Wow, Missy Elliott and Da' Brat)-Jumpin' Jumpin'-1999, 2000 Columbia/Epic/Sony Entertainment. **

* * *

_When we get home darlin'  
And it's nice and dark  
And the music's in Vienna  
Still you're hot _

Suzanne sang the second stanza to the Sylvester classic, _You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)_ aloud and off key to the annoyance of the males on West Wing; she plumb ran out of the last damns she gave on manners. Some, not amused to the latest comeuppance, muttered an inappropriate response audible enough to hear.

 _'_ _You didn't have to embarrass Collins on a PT drill in the process...'_ A male colleague said aloud.

The three were scheduled to work until 6 pm, with Suzanne's off days on Tuesday and Wednesday for the week. The second Monday was the day she showered and dressed at the White House after workout. Within the 15 minute window she donned the tailored pants, dress shirt, and a sweater. Her feet, however, consisted of tennis shoes as she sashayed to the area with a pastry tray-courtesy of the White House Kitchen-in one hand with documents tucked underneath the other arm. The flat screens replayed the agents struggling during the morning run played in the loop and Suzanne Gibbs, the heroine, emerged on the homestretch alone.

 _"_ _Oh,_ _Picture me gone-make this a moment for Kodak,_ _ **BYE!**_ _"_

The original network aired an apology to Mrs. Gibbs stating that, _"the reporter and medical personnel misjudged initial conclusions…"_ on a recent health segment.

"Shouldn't had implied I was overweight and out of shape…"

Suzanne retrieved outfit accessories from the supply closet and the spare bag, the usual routine for a Monday morning exercise regimen. Her office was sufficient enough for a quick glance before returning onto the floor. The heated exchange carried over. The women, once the quiet majority on the floor, found great comfort in the combatant responses from the new Presidential Aide.

" ** _Optional run_**." She emphasized that it was a PT drill. She carried on without abandon. "And Collins…didn't have to be a stubborn jackass and run five miles this morning, **but** he did…" Suzanne quickly responded. Others vocally agreed, both male and female.

' _You took it personal.'_

 _"_ _ **He**_ _made it personal once he took a swing at me on the basketball court last week."_ The conversation ended with that sentence. Suzanne emerged, restacked her braided locks into a loose ponytail. _"Now, I suggest_ _ **you**_ _have a seat, take some bass out the responses towards me before I make you a believer inside and out this office—you hear me?!"_

"While you were making believers out of doubters, Suzanne Gibbs…your stunt went viral." Claudia loudly interrupted, maneuvering an interoffice cease-fire like a referee for the two contenders return to a neutral corner. Appropriate office place etiquette returned, such as soft toned one-on-one conversations. "Phones haven't stopped ringing…"

She tossed the handful of messages onto Suzanne's desk.

"The talk show circuit have called for interviews."

"I'm not going on national television!" Suzanne prepared the general coffee set up for their general meeting-her daily with the President over coffee and paperwork. It was an hour before the general meeting with Advance and Scheduling. She electronically submitted last-minute changes for the overall Daily Briefing.

"For God's sake, don't let the President know about the TV circuit."

"Oh… ** _too_** late, Grasshopper! He personally booked you for New York tomorrow morning!" Linda shared with Suzanne.

"Damn!" The young aide's clenched teeth, followed by a low groan was frustration.

"Don't sweat. I'm going with you." Claudia began. "6:30 flight from Reagan. We spend the night, get plenty rest to make our rounds, Sister."

"Congratulations: you're now a model for 21st century feminism." Linda laughed. "Instead of Rosie the Riveter, we have Suzanne the Sadomasochist."


	7. By Your Side

"Miss him already?"

The little jokes, accompanied with a warm smile, entertained a quiet coworker throughout the travel. Claudia joked with Suzanne quite a bit to alleviate the tense work environment, with the snappy quips at the newbie's expense. _'Consider it a compliment. She'd keep the conversation purely professional if she didn't like you'_ the others shared when it came a barrage of nicknames, especially 'Newlywed.' That moniker seemed to amuse both Claudia and Linda, along with the others on the wing. It was also true; Suzanne was a deliriously happily married woman of a few months. The idle screen image on her work tablet: a heart-shaped carving with initials S  & J on a tree.

"It's not that, even though I wouldn't mind talking to Jethro right now..." Suzanne released a heavy sigh once settled inside their suite. The traveling schedule was not an issue. Packing and replenishing go-bags, two mutually agreed, was in their job descriptions. _'It's part of the life.'_ Suzanne was an E-9's daughter and served with the Peace Corps. Two days for business was a cakewalk compared to four years in Central America with the Peace Corps or an extended Southwest Asian tour during the First Persian Gulf. Suzanne watched the endless stream of cars and pedestrian traffic along the Manhattan streets. She and Claudia managed to blend into the bustling streets, avoiding detection or recognition. The interview scheduled for the most popular AM talk show would end the last shred of anonymity.

"I believe you, Suzanne." Rarely she used her first name in conversation. The vocal protests were dismissed by Claudia, at first. She assumed it was a feeble attempt to mask 'modesty.' The day passed and she watched Suzanne's anxiety intensify. She couldn't believe the sight! It was rare to work with someone in Washington politics _without_ a personal agenda.

 _'Oh, she'll make it here.'_ Linda's summation of the new colleague's disposition was genuinely "sweet but underestimated." The fact was evident once Suzanne raised her voice over the phone regarding the President's request. _  
_

 _'Are you **kidding** me?!' _ She removed her glasses, took several deep breaths as a method to keep calm. A moment later, the tone escalated to a direct manner.

 _"Get your supervisor, then. I'll come get it myself, all right. See if they'll stop me when I tell them it's for the Chief..."_

She definitely demonstrated knowledge in regards to the job. Suzanne's quick temperament earned a reputation as "The Right One," as if the person not to cross. If there were answers not satisfactory to the task at hand, one or all three attacked until a satisfactory resolution became available. The newest member of the trio closest to President Owens was tenacious.

"You're an _excellent_ public speaker..." Claudia chuckled and referenced to the numerous examples Suzanne presented speeches and informal briefings in the White House. "It boggles my mind why you're insecure about interviews."

"I wanted to just prove a point at the job and ZNN...I didn't want it to go _**national**_." Suzanne continued watching the view from the window. "Besides, people want to know about my personal life..."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I like being unknown." Suzanne answered with a chuckle.

"Come on, Newlywed." Claudia suggested to go outside, if not for the fresh air and walk. "Let's go to dinner, have a good meal and relax."

As the two walked from the hotel, Claudia admitted that she suggested the interview and volunteered to accompany Suzanne to New York-'to get away from DC for just a day or two.'

It was that point both smiled and laughed.

"I figured you need someone by your side, just to ease your nerves."

"I'm glad you're here. Thank you, Claudia."

* * *

The morning interview was subdued, very much similar to a day's work at the White House for a briefing. There Suzanne appeared on television, dressed typically for a 9-6 day with the President and fielding questions like the Assistant to the President. Embarrassed at the fact she got worked up over a simple apologetic follow-up piece with ZNN, Suzanne left the studio with Claudia smiling and laughing hysterically.

"Oh, that was so easy-peasy!"

"What did I tell you?"

The two agreed to coffee and a light snack at a deli nearby the hotel. They had a few hours left on the agenda before the late evening return to Washington. The laughter subsided when a whimsical cell chime cut through. Suzanne's phone. She glanced downward to see it was Linda, perhaps giving a congratulatory call. Instead, it was a business-related change.

"You and Claudia can stay another day in New York. Your room and tickets have been changed."

"Oh wow." Suzanne said. She whispered to her colleague about the change, adding that 'I guess it was a good job.'

"Good news! You're booked for John Farris tonight as a guest."

 _The news was not good._

The king of late night talk dominated the 11:35 time slot the past five years, won countless awards, and its young host was wildly popular with the viewership as comedian, political commentator, talk show host, and author. To appear on his show, seriously, his guests had to bring a multitude of arsenals just to maintain step. Suzanne had the responsibility to be exactly on point, for the sake of the President, the White House, and her reputation.


	8. You'll Need a Dress

**_Author's Notes: We continue the story with Suzanne Gibbs, preparing for a national debut on a wildly popular late night talk show. With colleague Claudia Bailey, the two search for appropriate attire for the occasion. The rationale for 'You'll Need a Dress' is the supposed belief working women should own and wear a dress on occasion, especially in Washingtonian politics. Both women struggle with the notion; the Claudia character illustrates how to decisively use gender _**

_"You're going to need a dress..."_

They began the search after receiving the phone call 9 AM. Farris' offices expected Suzanne and Claudia in the studio 4:30- _30 Rockefeller Plaza._ Familiar with public transit, the two hit the MTA for lower Manhattan. Cell phones in hand, two shops in lower Manhattan beside another and within walking distance from the 37 minute subway ride.

"That's 45 minutes total. 8 minute walk from the station." Suzanne proclaimed. She was barely recognizable when the prescription lenses darkened to sunglasses and spoke in a whisper. Wearing the newspaper styled hat also served as an advantage, as she blended naturally with the commuting crowd.

"We're having a failure to communicate..." She shared with Suzanne the reason for not wearing contacts. Claudia was a fixture on Sunday television news shows. Those self-addicted news junkies might recognize the tightly coiled bun and famous black blazer. She easily avoided detection by simply wearing her shoulder length brown hair full and her prescription glasses. "Which you will have if you don't come with your "A" game tonight, Counselor...with a dress on."

Suzanne watched Farris the first three years at Georgetown and took a sabbatical the final year of study, dedicating the 105 minutes of the early late night TV to either academic or slumberly pursuits. Either way, it was time well-spent. Suzanne's new White House work hours didn't permit her to stay up past 10 o'clock to watch all of the wildly popular show for her age or work demographic; highlights made morning TV headlines. Claudia's knowledge on appearances were based on past experiences as a campaign manager and independent consultant work. She immediately suggested that in order to run with the late night competition, one must dress the part. It was a late night show with a huge voter demographic, and the comic had significant influence on public affairs. Even Claudia wore dresses, skirts with different blouse cuts and patterns with the signature black blazer.

 _'Newlywed: you're representing the Boss!'_ Owens himself was not invited, yet, on John Farris' show for the second administration. He was, though, a favorite subject for quick repartee and cheap laughs during his watch. Hiring Suzanne Gibbs as an assistant worked in favorable numbers. For an aide to appear before the sitting President— _unprecedented-_ and it made the subordinate nervous.

 _'It was no way I could spend a $1000 dollars on a dress...'_ That was Suzanne's final comment after visiting the exclusive five-star Vivaldi's in Upper Manhattan. She agreed all choices were absolutely exquisite and worthy. The problem: she counted on two hands, possibly a foot the number of dresses she owned and _that_ included the wedding dress. _'Jethro would kill me...'_ Suzanne realized that she _also_ made a comfortable living as well, even after contributing the share of salaried monies to financial obligations. She possessed adequate means to splurge on herself as well. ' _I couldn't justify it on one dress!'_

The two made their way into the first boutique only a brisk five minute walk from the subway. It was a contrast from the first, with the decibel-bleeding, mumbling and nonsensical 'thing' called music immediately engulfing the senses at first step. The selections were bright and reminiscent to the remaining decade Suzanne was born and Claudia began high school. Suzanne immediately disliked the store and commented as young and way too trendy.

 _'You've got to be kidding!"_

 _'Size 12, Tall?'_ It was a misses-sized store, meaning that the selections were all available for the uniquely frame colleague. A careful study of the dimensions calculated an estimation that Suzanne would most be comfortable in the store's Large with some stretch and size XL wear, if buttoned. Claudia measured a series of close-fitting lycra dresses across the tall, slender frame of her colleague, which were either frowned upon or entirely pushed away.

Suzanne's preferred plain appearances with pants, untucked oxford shirts, sometimes vests and often suit jackets with a scarf and plain black flat shoes downplayed the unusually set of long legs. If she sported the newspaper boy cap, she _almost_ blended with President Owens and the male-dominated service staff from the back. That was, until an observer couldn't help but the long neck, curved and not bulky shoulders, well portioned hips and a curvier bottom.

 _'Oh, damn! That's a girl?!'_ The height itself triggered the above response. Suzanne was unmistakingly female, despite disguises and ruses. Folloewed were a series of smart-assed quips about the "hominy grits" her parents fed to produce such a very tall girl. It was not a chance to mistake her gender when face-to-face. There was not enough clothing, supportive brassiers or athletic tape to disguise her voluptuous front.

 _'I guess 'Poncho' and 'Lefty' gave that away...'_ With hands placed squarely on her hips, she faced whistleblowers each time with a smile. _"My big brothers are 6'5 and 6'9; I'm the runt of the three."_

 _"You_ _ **have**_ _a body…"_

 _"But I also have a mind…"_

 _'Remember our goal: the_ _ **'damn!'**_ _factor.'_

"Claudia, I was thinking for tonight I'll wear my black pants suit, brand new keyhole purple silk tied shirt…"

 _"Suzanne: you wear suits every single day! Tonight is your ride on the Farris Wheel!"_ Two dresses under consideration. The first: red A-line dress, ruffle detailed and mid-length. The second was a mini dress, basic black with long dolman sleeves. The neckline was cute, though: keyholed and high-collared.

 _"Come on, Newlywed: give the folks a peek—just a damn peek!"_

Suzanne couldn't help but to softly laugh at her colleague's comment. That one-of-a-kind chuckle, recognizable, captured the attention of the young employee who immediately recognized both the Presidential Aide and Buffalo native, New York's Pride Claudia Hunter Bailey. She acknowledged their entry, allowed the two time just to walk about without interference but milling about for availability. Based the expression across Suzanne's face upon their arrival, the music channel immediately ceased to a palatable soft alternative station. She was also perfectly content to the choice, singing along to the selections. It was Claudia's clothing selections for Suzanne to model outside the fitting room that piqued her attention. After seeing one choice, the busy pattern mini dress, it was time for suggestions that matched personality.

 _'Claudia, I_ _ **told**_ _you it was a bad idea...'_

 _'Suz...'_

 _"How are you, ladies?" The quiet bickering ceased._

 _'I don't know about you...I'm not appreciative for any and every one calling me Suz...Susie, either...'_ The employee nametag read simply Suzanne, the letters a mixture of scrapbook calligraphy letters. The body, also long in altitude, and easy-on-the-eyes presence were similar. She stood proudly, all 5'10 with tan chinos, collared shirt with matching undershirt and fashionable tennis shoes. Even the attitude matched another who shared the first name. The two shook hands, exchanged laughs and pleasantries. The younger Suzanne made quite the impression with her introduction, even summarized her life in a succinct sentence-twenty year old, a proud CITY student-' _That's City College of New York"_ -and honors student at the Powell Institute. Claudia chuckled, being a SUNY alum at Buffalo.

"Well, we can't match Mrs. Harvard of the South; _**The** College of William of Mary in Virginia_." Suzanne's undergraduate program was the second oldest in the United States.

"Mrs. Gibbs, Mrs. Bailey: it would be my pleasure to assist you two today."

"Mrs. Gibbs needs to wear a dress." Suzanne groaned. "And as you can tell...she's a bit of a prima donna."

"I am _not_ a prima donna."

"And I have **_the_** perfect one for you; size XL." The conversation continued as she walked in the small organized storage area. Suzanne the younger shared background on the dress-a basic black maxi length dress with an asymmetrical hem. It was new to the collection with a launch date approaching in several weeks.

"This came in last week...about the same time when I noticed you on TV. I thought about how your height and your figure would look _perfect_ in this dress." With a smile, she passed the garment to Suzanne.

"Now, I know you're wondering how...when you're working with the President? Simple: a denim jacket makes it business-casual with a little edge...or a cardigan sweater..."

"So how do you know...?" Claudia grinned.

"Listen, I've been following all this stupid-assed dialogue about women's weight, healthy weight when there are more important issues to consider in Washington!" She stopped. " ** _Oh_**...the dress?"

"About the dress..." She stepped out the dressing room to seek approval.

 **"Oh... damn!"**


	9. Late Night Debut

_'Call Q-Bert.'_

It was one of the few nicknames the President bestowed on the faithful and loyal Aide but the closest in describing Suzanne's controlled, incoherent swearing under her breath for nonsensical situations while managing to jump for task completions. Despite the quirky nickname, voice detection system automatically recognized and dialed the contact.

 _'You've reached Suzanne Gibbs and currently I'm not available...'_

Suzanne Gibbs redirected all White House calls to voicemail around 3 PM, including President Owens'; it was not completely out of character for voicemails, since she traveled frequently with the Commander. The best mode was text. She refused responding to three, four dozen messages from White House colleagues. The response was prepared in mind for anyone who dared to ask.

 _'Oh... **now** , you've been trying to reach me? You **didn't** bother to ask my opinion about Ferris, so I don't give a damn.'_

She ranted on, finally releasing some built up hostility. After learning about the late show interview at the last minute, the subtle move was a message to all involved their decision was not appreciated.

 _'And you know what, Claudia? I still don't believe that bullshit!'_

Claudia's phone, however, was continuously ringing. For Suzanne to blurt curse words, boy, she was angry! President Owens knew of Suzanne's reluctance from the beginning. She was one of few White House employees, besides Mrs. Linda Pearson, who basked in relative anonymity. The experienced staffer simply held the device to allow their boss to hear first-hand remarks.

 _'The audacity to accept an interview...on my behalf?'_ As she bathed, dressed for the interview, the anger remained. Cabinets and doors slammed. Suzanne's one-sided tirade continued. ' _I'll make his old ass run a 6 minute mile when I get back...see how you like that?!'_

"Oh, she's _**pissed**_!" The President chuckled, the sound a combination of disbelief and resign to the fact his aide was dissatisfied. Owens was familiar with his aide's temperament but not to the extent of rage.

"You think, Mr. President?" Claudia answered.

"Convince her to calm down."

"Seriously? You uttered that phrase to _**your** _ wife, Mr. President?" Claudia inhaled a gust of wind, teeth clicked in disgust. "It's like trying to douse a fire with gasoline."

Suzanne soon returned into the common area, mumbling about the events.

 _' **Because** I'm representing the White House, Claudia suggests to wear a dress. Now, I trust what she's suggesting. I'm a novice to this pomp and circumstance...'_ She retrieved the items, placed them onto the bed.

 _'Found the dress in 20 minutes but spent two hours looking for size 12 wide wedge heels to go with the outfit!'_

 _'What am I going to do, Claudia?'_ The President asked.

"You're on your own, Boss."

Claudia Bailey sympathized with Suzanne. Competition in the workplace was an expectation in political circles, but the young aide was the only individual she even imagined a friendship outside of the work environment. Their personalities, albeit different, balanced another. The ranting was getting the best of Claudia, who was also getting dressed for the show as well.

 _'Suzanne: take your anxiety pill before I beat the hell out of you!'_

* * *

 _"She's in makeup...and you know she barely wears makeup."_

 _"Just that bit of eyeliner and lipstick..."_ Linda sighed. _"She take her medication?"_

 _"Yeah. She's actually mellow, thank God."_

It was close to 5 PM, and the beginning of Farris' show. Claudia provided the exclusive backstage commentary to an interested Linda Pearson, who called for support.

The New York trip was the fourth trip in a three week span. Suzanne planned an extended weekend with Jethro, first visiting Solomon and the College for Charter Weekend and spending the remaining time at the cabin. The remaining days until mini-vacation were spent on paperwork-electronic posts, memo-writings and advanced schedule requests-while listening to music. Suzanne had little input on the interviews; it was mandatory, part of the job. The vacation request was postponed.

Claudia and Linda took notice a playlist from her work desktop, so it was simple from that point to accommodate and comfort their third for John Farris.

 _'Please take care of our coworker, Suzanne. To make her at-ease, we suggest to play the following songs. The songs are programmed either in her I-Pod or desktop computer. She gets migraine headaches, so make sure the lighting in the waiting area is dim. Please ask Suzanne if she'd like either a cup of coffee or water. Depending on the day, she will drink a cup of coffee-double sugar, double cream. She also likes sweets, such as brownies or cookies. Suzanne exercises 4, 5 times a week for about two hours a day with or without the President, so she's not weight conscious.'_

Claudia watched from the hallway. The guest was in their "Green Room," without monitors, sans monologue and Kenny G playing in the background as requested. _Sentimental_ was Suzanne's favorite instrumental, as it allowed her thoughts to concentrate about love. The first time heard as a couple: their first weekend excursion together at the cabin. The second time was at a performance. Suzanne, who took dance instruction from elementary to college, performed to the song with the Washington Dance Troupe. It was Jethro's first time learning of her hidden talent-dance. By their marriage, _Sentimental_ seemed to describe the actions, feelings for both At their reception, they held another but communicated through a smile, a laugh the special bond and love for one another.

 _'Gotta go, L: they're introducing her now.'_

At her introduction, the plucky song played in the background. People generally cheered, and the admirers of the form whistled. Suzanne Gibbs politely waved, smiled, and softly greeted the audience with a bashfully lilt of a hello. If there were a checklist for the famous slogan _'Strong Enough for a Man, Made for a Woman,'_ she made the perfect specimen for Madison Avenue advertisers. On camera, Suzanne appeared dainty and extraordinary feminine in her black dress while exhibiting confidence, competence, and some competitiveness in the workplace. She greeted John Farris with firm eye contact, strong handshake and a sturdy greeting.

 ** _'Hello, Suzanne Gibbs; good to meet you.'_**

 _Who's bad? Who's bad?_

 _Who's bad? Who's, who's bad?_

 _Who's bad? Who's bad?_

 _(Wait hold up)_

 _Who's bad?_

Suzanne casually glanced out at the audience and took that extra moment to enjoy the applause. The camera captured the warm, wholesome smile. She hated to admit Claudia's advice was not a misfire. The sleek maxi dress accentuated the curves in all the right places, with the asymmetrical hem at the knee the perfect touch to admire her sculpted leg. The open neckline was a little much for Suzanne's taste, but selecting the mid-waist denim jacket was the right look to conceal her healthy chest line and polish the look with a unique New York pop.

 _I'm representing for the misses, all eyes on your riches_

 _No time for the little tricks, you see the bigger the trust_

 _The bigger the bank, the bigger the Benz..._

 ** _'Who chose that song?'_** Suzanne chuckled.

 _'Your colleague did...'_ Farris answered. Claudia waved from backstage.

Slowly, she stepped onto the set and made way to the plush guest chair with the host following steps behind. Again, Farris introduced Suzanne by name and provided a brief description of his interest for an invitation. Farris began with soft questions, meaning compliments and flirtation tactics ensure a comfortable, false sense of security to an unsuspecting guest.

 _'You're certainly taller than President Owens tonight...'_ Briefly the camera angled to the floor in position for home viewers to notice the shoe selection. It widened the shot to finally capture a full image of both Farris and Suzanne. Proudly but ladylike, the long legs crossed and posture demonstrated a measurable height discrepancy between the guest and host. Farris wore a pleasant smile, again complementing both the erect posture in his guest chair and the stylish wedge-heeled shoes complimenting her outfit.

 _'Now...how does the President feel about high heels?'_

 _"Are we spending 20 minutes discussing my footwear this evening?"_ Suzanne's bright smile charmed the host and audience. Her law school education prepared her for any situation.

 _"They're cute shoes."_

With a subtle laugh, she continued talking.

" _Oh, I wear flat shoes each day at work, especially tennis sneakers with suits."_

Suzanne knew it was a small diversion, a trap to divert the Aide to feminine pursuits, rather than qualifications, her daily duties and responsibilities of her position as the Assistant to the Commander. It was a game, except Farris was unaware she anticipated each move and carefully calculated her counterpoint. Suzanne nodded, decided to play along for a while.

 _"Would you...like for me to take them off, Mr. Farris?"_ The seductive tone in her voice and sparkle in her eye elicited a hoot from the audience. Claudia stayed behind the stage and watched, nodding and smiling with vengeful pleasure how her colleague remained calm, courteous, flirtatious even humorous with Farris' irrelevant style of questioning.

' _You…are just certainly taller than I expected.'_

 _'You mentioned that already.'_

Suzanne's response caught the quick-witted host off-guard.

"I also ate my veggies growing up...and having moderately tall parents." She smiled.

Immediately he inquired her exact height, without shoes. Suzanne answered, followed by short commentary how she grew an additional three inches between high school and college.

' _So imagine being the tallest girl in high school...and the shortest among the boys on the basketball team.'_ Suzanne laughed. She commented that compared to President Owens, she was significantly shorter at 73 1/4 inches.

 _'You look absolutely amazing tonight, Suzanne.'_ The audience agreed with the statement with applause, a few additional whistles. Suzanne had on little makeup. It was her famous plum gloss lipstick and eyeliner. There was a hint of reddish blush against the cheekbone, accentuating the naturally shining pinkish hue. Her skin was flawless, perfect underneath the harsh studio lighting. _'That dress...your beautiful complexion…?'_

 _"You know my husband's watching…"_ She remembered the flirtatious nature and remained friendly, yet on-guard.

 _'Right...'_ The audience laughed, watching Farris react nervously. _'I...forgot you're married.'_

 _'To a sniper...'_ Suzanne added. It was the first time she mentioned Jethro's past life, an inkling of his identity. It was a promise made: never his first name or occupation.

 _"And the President?"_

 _'I'm not married to the President.'_ Suzanne continued smiling. The two on-camera complemented another with the friendly banter and subtle flirtation.

 _'I meant...the President's watching...'_

 _'Of course!' Suzanne laughed. 'And my two big brothers...'_

 _'I think I better change the subject...'_

 _'Might be your best bet...'_ Suzanne laughed. The audience clapped _. 'Am I making you nervous?'_


End file.
